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could also hear the sound of a man muttering softly to himself. She began to feel the power thrumming along
her nerves and to feel the heat of his blood calling her.
They stopped at the edge of the building. Carissa had eyes only for her prey. He was a large man, armed with a
billet. He was there to guard the goods that were still stacked on the pier. She started forward, but Ryan held
her back. Ryan was searching the night to see if the guard had a companion. Ryan could feel Carissa trembling
with eagerness, but she held tight to the inexperienced hunter until she was sure there was no one else nearby.
"Listen, my dove. He is much stronger than you, and though he could not kill you with that piece of wood, he
could hurt you badly." Ryan's whisper was so soft in her ear that, even with her hunter's senses, Carissa had to
strain to hear her.
"You cannot overpower him, nor do you have enough skill to mesmerize him. I could help you again, and if
you wish me to, I will, but you must learn to do this yourself. In any case, I will be close by to help, if you
should need it."
"How?" Carissa whispered with almost no sound.
"You are beautiful, my dear. Let that be your weapon. It is a formidable one." Carissa started to protest, but
Ryan gave her a little push toward the guard. Carissa felt something pressed into her hand, but when she
looked over her shoulder, Ryan was gone. She cursed softly to herself and then saw that the guard had heard
some noise. He had risen and was holding the billet ready in his hand.
Before the man could call the alarm, Carissa stepped boldly out of the shadows. She let her shawl slip down her
shoulders, and the moonlight fell on the white mounds of her breasts as they crested over her dress. She looked
quickly at the silver gleam in her hand and smiled when she saw it was a flask. Now she felt the thrill of the
hunt, and all other thoughts left her mind. This was her prey alone, and it would be her skill that took him. She
sauntered forward confidently, feeling her skirt swirl about her calves as she moved her hips in the rhythm of
her stride.
"Hey, sweet thing, what are you doing clown here?" the man called out softly.
"I got lonely," Carissa pouted. She came closer until she stood warmed by the soft light of the man's lantern. It
gave her white skin a golden glow and glinted sparks from her amber eyes. She stopped so the man could get a
good look at her.
"Yer all alone?" the man asked suspiciously. He was smart enough to realize that she might be a decoy for
some thieves.
"Unfortunately," Carissa sighed. "He drank too much and passed out, leaving me all alone. And I don't want to
be alone tonight."
The guard cleared his throat as she came closer. He was staring at her breasts, licking his lips unconsciously.
"Wait here," he ordered.
Carissa watched while he lifted his lantern and searched the shadows. She was confident Ryan would not be
detected. Part of her wanted to jump snarling on the man's back and take him just like that, but she knew she
was not strong enough. Besides, he would bellow with alarm, and there were probably other men sleeping on
the ship or in the warehouse. She watched him search, and she realized he was too tall for her to reach his neck
if he stood. She looked around and found a pile of sacking next to the door of the warehouse. Carissa moved to
the sacks and spread them into a nest. Then she settled down on them, letting her skirt ride up above her knees.
When the guard returned, she waved him over.
The guard satisfied himself that no gang of thugs was waiting to jump him while the streetwalker distracted
him. He was still confused. Women of her quality didn't usually work the docks. He could see she was
unmarked by the pox and so young that her flesh was firm and supple. He licked his lips again as he looked
down at her. She held up the flask and then waved him closer.
"Is it silver?" he asked.
Carissa shrugged. "I suppose so."
"You steal it?"
Carissa laughed. "Just borrowed it. He'd had more than enough to drink, and he won't miss it till morning.
Want some?"
The guard sat down next to Carissa and took the flask from her. It was filled with fine brandy, not the cheap
rum he was used to, and he smacked his lips with appreciation.
"How much?"
Carissa turned and posed for him, her breasts straining against the fabric. She shrugged, and her sleeve slid
down to reveal a white shoulder. "How much am I worth to you?"
The guard wiped his lips. He could not afford such a whore, and he knew that. But he also knew she must
know it. Perhaps she just wanted a real man after the rich drunks who were probably her usual customers. He
reached in his pocket and found a silver coin. He took it out and offered it to her. He was relieved to see her
smile and pocket it. She hadn't been insulted. Good.
"Finish the brandy," Carissa suggested. He smiled at her, almost shyly, and took a long pull at the flask. Then
he lay back next to her, running one hand up her leg. In a moment, he would discover that Carissa wore
nothing under her skirts. She leaned up on her elbow and pushed him down flat. When she bent to kiss his
neck, he chuckled.
"Eager for it, aren't you?" he whispered.
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